


Balance

by tarigwaemir (troisroyaumes)



Series: The White Chrysanthemum [1]
Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Community: 31_days, Gen, Multipart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-24
Updated: 2005-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troisroyaumes/pseuds/tarigwaemir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hikaru finds a sword.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I am waylaid by Beauty."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Murinae](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Murinae).



> Written for [31_days](http://31-days.livejournal.com). Dedicated to [Muri](http://murinae.livejournal.com).

On the fifteenth day of the eighth month, at sunset, Hikaru ran off yet again to the riverbank--at that time, he was only eleven years of age--instead of finishing his chores. While the old master of acolytes was searching the temple grounds, muttering to himself about the joys of retirement and life away from overactive little brats, Hikaru was happily splashing in the water, heedless of his new, clean robes, hunting for frogs who leaped away in a panic from his quick and eager hands. It was the night of the harvest festival, and the other acolytes were gathered around the kitchens, hoping to steal a taste of the dishes being prepared in offering to ancestral spirits. But for the moment, Hikaru had forgotten all about the delicious heaps of rice cakes and fruits that awaited him at the temple; he was too preoccupied with chasing down a plump green bullfrog that croaked at him impudently as it leaped away from his hands.

The last rays of the sun illuminated the surface of the water, and Hikaru stopped for a moment to brush the bangs out of his eyes and notice the gleaming, rippling river, lit red like the wild poppies that grew at the edge of the temple gardens. He squinted at the moon, already risen at the opposite end of the horizon, a round golden coin in a deep blue sky. He wondered at the strangeness of the hour, when both sun and moon inhabited the heavens, like two generals at war sharing a meal at the same table. He walked further from the riverbank, out into the center, where the water reached his waist. The sun sank a little more, the moon climbed a little higher, and as he turned to look for the evening star, he tripped over a rock and fell back with a loud splash into the water.

 _What's this?_ A voice asked.

Hikaru shouted, or rather tried to shout, around the water filling his mouth and throat, "Help me!" as he thrashed about in a panic. The river was much deeper than he remembered; he could not reach the surface.

 _Who are you? Can you hear me?_

A distinct and clear image of a young man with long black hair holding the blade of a sword against his stomach flashed into Hikaru's mind. He frantically kicked at the treacherous water that seemed bent on dragging him down to the bottom, and mentally screamed, "Help me, help me, help me! Whoever you are, whatever gods you pray to, help me, I'm going to _die_!"

His flailing hand latched onto a thin, long object. He grasped it tightly as he lost consciousness.

***

He opened his eyes to a dimly lit room. He sat up in shock and gazed wildly about him, patting the floor around him to make sure that he was indeed on dry land and breathing air not water.

"Oh, you're finally awake." He looked up and saw Akari peering down at him, holding a lamp in one hand.

"What _happened_ to me?"

"We found you by the river, looking half-dead, with your robes all wet," she informed him. "Holding _that_." She pointed at his right hand.

He looked down. He was clutching the smooth lacquered scabbard of a long, curved sword. The guard was simple but inlaid with mother-of-pearl. He frowned. "What's this?"

"How am I supposed to know? But you wouldn't let go of it, even when the master of acolytes tried to pry your fingers off so he could look at it more carefully. Like someone _glued_ your hand to it."

He lifted the sword. It felt surprisingly light. He was about to draw it from the scabbard, when Akari suddenly turned around and bowed. The abbot had entered the room.

"Your Reverence," they both exclaimed, and Hikaru attempted to scramble to his knees, but the abbot gestured at him to remain as he was.

"I see that you have recovered."

"Yes, Your Reverence."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I was--I was playing in the river. I, um, tripped over a rock and fell. I thought I was drowning."

The abbot gave him a sharp look. "I thought you knew how to swim, Shindou."

"I do, but--" Hikaru bit his lip.

"Did you reach the bank on your own then? Did someone rescue you?"

Hikaru shook his head. "I don't remember anything after that, Your Reverence."

"I see. And what of that curious object in your hand?"

Hikaru glanced at the sword. He touched the hilt cautiously. "I don't know, Your Reverence. I think--I think I found it in the river."

"Hm. I see. That is no ordinary artifact you hold, Shindou. I suggest you hold onto it at all times."

Hikaru looked up, startled. "Yes, Your Reverence," he replied automatically.

"Well, I shall leave you to rest. Come, Fujisaki, back to your room." Akari bowed and hurriedly followed the abbot out of the room.

Hikaru stared at the sword in his hands. He turned it around and examined the strange geometric designs on the guard, the worn but polished surface of the scabbard. He took a deep breath, grasped the hilt and pulled out the blade.

"Finally," said a voice from behind him.

He jerked around. Sitting on his pillow was a young man dressed in many layers of fine-embroidered robes, with long black hair spilling over one shoulder. His face was very pale and his eyes were very dark. Hikaru gasped. "Who are you?!"

"My name is Fujiwara no Sai. That sword you're holding once belonged to me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it," Hikaru babbled and held out the sword with both hands. "You can have it back."

The man laughed, a bright, light-hearted sound. "I'm afraid I can't. You see, I'm a ghost," he said and passed one incorporeal hand through the exposed blade.

Hikaru stared in astonishment. "A ghost?"

"You're taking this remarkably calmly. Much more calmly than Torajirou, I must say."

"A ghost?!"

The man, or rather, ghost laughed again. "Yes, a ghost. I killed myself with that blade on the banks of the river where you nearly drowned over a thousand years ago."

Hikaru could only stare at him mutely with incredulous eyes.

"Let's begin again. My name is Fujiwara no Sai, and despite my very real and very painful death many centuries ago, my spirit has been tied to that blade. You, having some latent sensitivity I imagine, had the good fortune to find the sword and hence me. You can see me, but no one else can."

"Oh."

"I was able to possess your body when you fell unconscious at the river. Which is how you are still alive to speak to me now."

"Oh," Hikaru said again. "Um, thank you."

"You're welcome," the ghost said, smiling. "In return, will you lend me your body?"

"What?!"

***

"I don't see what the problem is," Sai, that is, the ghost, whined as he followed Hikaru around the courtyard. "I don't need it all the time. Only long enough to achieve my goal."

"Which is to defeat a monster that _killed_ the Fourteenth Emperor. Who's to say that it won't kill me too?!"

"I don't mean to be immodest, but I had some skill when I was alive. And when Torajirou found the sword, I had another lifetime to master the art. Hikaru--"

"No, no, no," Hikaru said, sweeping around the broom with unusually savage jerks. The sword, which was strapped to his back, clanked awkwardly at his legs. He stopped and sighed with exasperation.

"But you don't understand! I was a member of the Guild of the White Chrysanthemum. I disgraced myself when I failed to defend His Imperial Highness, I dishonored the Guild and the sword I carried. I committed suicide in despair, but my spirit could not rest. There is a balance to the universe, Hikaru, and I must serve it before I can--"

"The White Chrysanthemum is a legend, and there are no monsters, at least not anymore." Hikaru resumed his sweeping.

"You _must_ be mistaken. Why, at the river--" A sudden scream interrupted Sai's litany.

"That sounds like-- _Akari_!" Hikaru dropped the broom and started running. The sword banged uncomfortably against his legs.

Sai frowned in concentration and then called out to Hikaru, "To your left!"

Hikaru reached the source of the scream and came to an abrupt halt. Akari had one leg trapped in a sort of muddy whirlpool in the middle of the ground. It seemed to ooze and swirl and suck, as Akari attempted to scramble away and drag her foot out. But every struggle only pulled her closer to the strange vortex.

"Akari, don't move! You're making it worse!"

She looked up, with an expression so frantic that she seemed unable to recognize him. "Help me! Get it _off_! It's trying to pull me under!"

"Calm down," he shouted at her, although his own hands were shaking. He looked around frantically. There was no one in sight. He began unstrapping the sword from his back.

"Hikaru," Sai said quietly.

"Not now, Sai."

"Hikaru, I know how to fight this thing. You don't. If you let me take control, for just ten minutes, I can--"

"No, shut up, I'm not letting you possess me. If you don't be quiet, I'm going to go to the abbot and ask for an exorcism," Hikaru said savagely as he yanked at the sword. He held out one end of the scabbard to Akari. "Here, hold onto this."

She gripped the scabbard tightly, but when Hikaru tried to pull, her hands slid against its polished surface.

Hikaru stamped his foot in frustration. "Stupid thing. Stupid _ghost_."

" _Help_ me," Akari cried, her face red and swollen.

At that very moment, someone sped past him in a blur and shouted, "By moon and water, I command you to take human form!"

The whirlpool in the ground stopped spinning and began to bubble. Akari freed her leg from the mud and scrambled away as quickly as she could. Hikaru stared at the boy who was now pointing a sword at the humanoid figure that was beginning to coalesce from the earth.

"Will you do me the honor of fighting me?" the boy asked politely.

The creature slowly finished taking shape, and a long spear appeared in its hands. It took a step back and held the spear aloft.

The boy bowed. He lifted his sword above his head. The creature feinted, and the boy stepped back, then brought his sword down in a swift, elegant strike. It missed his opponent, but he let the sword glide down and back up in a smooth circle, parrying another thrust of the spear and flicking it to the side. Before the creature could move, he leaped forward, and thrust his sword into its throat. It stepped back, staggered, and then disintegrated into dust.

The boy sheathed his sword and bent over, to catch his breath. Hikaru noticed that his hands were red and blistered and that his robes were drenched in sweat.

"Uh, excuse me," Hikaru said, but the boy did not seem to hear. Instead, he straightened, nodded curtly at Hikaru and Akari, and walked away without a word.

"Look," Sai exclaimed suddenly, "he's associated with the Guild!"

"What? How can you tell?" Hikaru asked.

"He sealed it with a chrysanthemum," said Sai, pointing at the ground, where indeed there was a small, many-petaled white flower.

Hikaru stared at the direction in which the boy had disappeared. "Oh."

***

Later that day, after he had helped a shaking Akari walk back to the temple, where she told her story again and again to unbelieving ears, he sat down in his room and placed the sword on the ground in front of him. He studied it intently for a long moment.

"Sai," he said finally.

"Yes, Hikaru?"

"Can you teach me to do that? To be like that boy?"

"You want to learn the sword?" Sai asked in delighted surprise.

"Yes. You can possess my body, if you want. Just teach me how to move like that." Hikaru met Sai's eyes squarely with a determined set to his chin.

The ghost seemed taken aback, but replied, "Of course."

"Thank you." He carefully placed the sword by the side of his bed.

"Hikaru?"

"Yes?"

"It isn't easy, you know."

"I know."

"Do you still want to learn?"

"I would do anything," Hikaru said quietly, "if it meant that I could shine like that."

"Ah. I see. Then I will teach you."


	2. "The heart beats on and will not stop."

"The key to wielding a sword is balance," said Sai for perhaps the hundredth time. "You must relax but still feel tension; you must remain alert but empty your mind. You must--"

"Think, but not think," Hikaru grumbled, as he shifted his weight and adjusted his grip on the wooden stick that served as his practice sword. He was still too short and inexperienced to attempt using Sai's very sharp and very long blade.

"Exactly. I think you're learning, Hikaru!"

"You've had me swing this thing up and down for _weeks_. When am I going to do something new?"

"But it isn't only repetition," Sai explained patiently. "Remember, with a real sword, each strike can kill. Imagine your opponent standing in front of you. With each swing, your sword cuts through his skull."

Hikaru sighed and let his stick drop to the ground. "I'm tired."

"Hikaru." Sai folded his arms and looked sternly at the sullen boy. "I thought you said you wanted to learn. I told you it wouldn't be easy."

"I know, I know." Hikaru picked up the stick and straightened, trying to make himself tall, despite his aching back.

Sai looked carefully at him, the short, skinny boy in plain yellow robes, holding a little too tightly onto a curving wooden stick that was meant to approximate a blade but looked more like a cudgel. He winced. Hikaru was wearing his most stubborn expression, with a hint of a pout to his mouth, a tired droop to his shoulders in spite of his best attempt to hold them back. He seemed very young and very tired. Sai shook his head and gestured at the sword, which had been placed carefully against a nearby tree. "Why don't we try something different, then?"

"Eh?"

"Will you let me take over your body?"

"What? But--"

"For demonstration purposes only," Sai hastened to add.

"No! I told you, I want to learn how to do it myself."

"But Hikaru," Sai said plaintively, "I can't even hold a sword by myself. How else can I show you how to use it?"

Hikaru shook his head stubbornly.

"I promise, it will only be to teach you the basics. As soon as your body learns to remember the movements on its own, I will not possess you again."

Hikaru stared at him with narrowed eyes then finally gave a reluctant nod. He set down the wooden stick and went to retrieve Sai's sword. He held it vertically, hanging straight before him with his right hand, eyeing it carefully before tying the scabbard clumsily to his sash. He pressed his thumb against the guard, grasped the hilt with his right hand, and took a deep breath. "All right. I'm ready."

He drew the sword in one smooth sweep. Sai closed his eyes and felt the strange jerk of entering another person's body. He opened his eyes--and Hikaru's opened as well. He looked down at his--Hikaru's--hand, which held the sword, _his_ sword, in an awkward grip. He grasped the hilt with both hands, noted the familiar yet so nearly forgotten sensation of leather against his palms, and blinked to realize that he had tears in his eyes.

 _Sai?_

"Yes, Hikaru?"

 _Are you--you're happy, aren't you?_

Sai smiled with Hikaru's mouth. "Yes, Hikaru. More than words can ever say."

***

At first, it was strange to lose all control over his body and yet still inhabit it, as if he was some sort of puppet. It was even odder to have his face contort into expressions that were not his own--Sai smiled more widely, with his eyes widened in delight--and his arms and legs move fluidly, with none of his usual abrupt force. Hikaru couldn't help envying a little the grace with which Sai managed to perform every drill, despite the uncooperative body with its unaccustomed limbs.

"But you see, Hikaru," Sai told him when he asked, "you must learn to move with your body, not against it. The more natural the movement, the more beautiful the form."

Hikaru found himself changing his stride and everyday gestures to fit the gliding, flowing steps and swings of the drills that Sai performed with his body. The sweep of the broom was like the curve traced by the tip of the sword as it sliced through an opponent's torso. The slide of his feet against the temple's floors was like the steps taken in the acceleration of a strike to an opponent's head. He held his head a little higher, met his elders' eyes a little longer--in a hundred subtle ways, he was shifting into someone new.

"Tell me about the White Chrysanthemum," Hikaru said one day, while scrubbing pots for the temple kitchens. "Are they all powerful magicians, as old Baba says?"

"Magicians? I suppose what we do might seem like magic. But in a sense, it is simpler than that. The Guild serves balance, the flux of _yin_ and _yang_ that governs the universe."

Hikaru frowned. "What does is that supposed to mean?"

"The sage will tell you that there are two principles in the universe--night and day, water and fire, earth and heaven--and that both are necessary for the natural order to continue. The cycle of the seasons, the daily surrender of day to night then night to day--all are signs of _yin_ and _yang_ waxing and waning in the natural world."

"Like life and death," Hikaru muttered.

"Yes, like life and death. But the universe is imperfect, and the balance can be upset. In such occasions, chaos erupts and demons can cross over."

"Demons? Is that what the monster that attacked Akari was?"

"'Demon' is a convenient name for it, yes, but 'monster' will do as well. But that wasn't the first time you've met one, Hikaru. Remember how you nearly drowned at the river?"

Hikaru scowled. "I still don't understand it. The river isn't that deep, and I've been swimming since I was five. But I felt like something was trying to stop me, as if the water was trying to trap me in a cage."

"An imbalance, Hikaru. Not strong enough for a demon to manifest itself, but enough for it to attempt to attack you." Sai hesitated, then continued, his voice a little nervous, "I think you attract them."

"Attract them?!" Hikaru exclaimed. "But why? What's wrong with me?"

"I'm not sure. But surely it wasn't a coincidence that a demon manifested near the temple shortly after another one had tried to attack you."

Hikaru frowned even more. "Am I dangerous?"

"No, of course not. The White Chrysanthemum looks for children like you and trains them to fight these creatures." Sai gave a little sigh. "I was one of them myself."

"You?"

"Humans all attract imbalance, Hikaru. The desire to win, to dominate. Even the desire to shine. Some of us want more than others. We channel this strength into serving the balance, until we come to peace with ourselves."

Hikaru pursed his lips and thought for a while as he rinsed out the last pot. "Is that why you became a ghost? Because you haven't found peace? Because you still want something so badly that you can't rest?"

Sai looked taken aback. His eyes grew very wide, and for a moment he looked very young, almost as young as Hikaru. "Perhaps--perhaps you're right."

***

A year passed, and then another. Hikaru grew familiar with the sword, accustomed to the feel of its hilt in his hands. Sai nagged at him to practice at every spare moment, and soon he even dreamed at night in strikes and lunges, in flashing blades and imaginary opponents.

"He's changed," the elders murmured as they observed him grow more serious and sometimes absent-minded. He finished his chores quickly but would forget to return for meals; he no longer played pranks with the other acolytes but sat alone, polishing the sword that he always carried by his side.

"Perhaps he's growing up," said the abbot and watched him closely.

On his thirteenth birthday--the last day he could remain at the temple as an acolyte--the abbot summoned Hikaru to the central shrine. The master of acolytes forced Hikaru into his best robes and new sandals, strapped the sword to his waist with a wide embroidered sash, and walked him to the door, lecturing him to behave his best.

"And remember to bow three times before the altar! Three times, and then another half-bow!"

"Yes, Master Noguchi," Hikaru repeated, rolling his eyes. Akari, who had turned thirteen a few weeks before, stuck her tongue out at him as she walked past him in the courtyard. She was wearing a disciple's robes but little else about her had changed. Hikaru made a face but was hurried along before he could exchange any words.

"Go in," the master of acolytes said solemnly, giving him a gentle push. "The abbot is waiting."

Hikaru took off his sandals and stepped inside. The floor here was very old, smooth and grey from the passage of many feet before his. He walked silently across the room, stopped at the red cushion lying several steps away from the huge, empty altar, and prostrated himself three times. As he got up to his feet and made his final half-bow, he heard a voice behind him say, "I see you've held onto the sword."

He turned around, startled. The abbot, as wrinkled and serene as ever, was sitting on an elaborate varnished chair. He gestured for Hikaru to sit down.

"Well, young Shindou, you turn thirteen today. With the years of labor you've devoted in service to the gods, you have paid off any debts that you may have to this temple. You are now faced with a choice: to stay and become a disciple, or to leave and risk the dangers of the world beyond these grounds."

Hikaru gaped.

"If you choose to leave, we will offer you a week's worth of food and a change of clothes to aid you on your journey. If you choose to stay, you will move into the disciples' quarters at the other end of the courtyard."

"Oh, um---thank you, Your Reverence."

"You have until the end of today to make your decision. But I find," and the abbot leaned forward a little to speak, "most people have made their decisions already in their hearts."

Hikaru exhaled loudly and dug the heels of his hands into his knees. _Sai?_

"Yes?"

 _What do you think I should do?_

"What do you want to do?"

Hikaru looked blankly at the wood-grain patterns on the floor. He did not know where to begin. The chance to leave the temple, to explore the world outside--they had all dreamed of it of course, had even spoken of running away at times, but now, faced with the opportunity, he could not speak. He stared at the backs of his hands, resting on knees covered by the yellow robes he had been wearing ever since he could remember. He thought of the quiet daily rhythms of temple life, unbroken except for the occasional prank on Master Noguchi, the childish insults shared with Akari, the broken pot, the rare festival banquet.

And then, as he looked at his hands and at the floor, he suddenly remembered the image of a boy moving swiftly like a serpent, striking with his blade of a fang into the heart of a faceless, misshapen demon. The arc traced by the shining sword, the intent resolve in the boy's face. The damp collar of his heavy robes. The ivory petals of a single chrysanthemum flower, pure against the overturned earth in which it had fallen.

He lifted his head and met the abbot's eyes. Before he could speak, the abbot nodded and got up from his seat.

"Goodbye, Shindou Hikaru."

Hikaru stood up, somewhat shakily. "Thank you, Your Reverence." He did not know what else to say, so he bowed instead.

"No need for that now," the abbot murmured, his face still serene. Hikaru walked past him to the door, stopped and looked back. The abbot's back was turned. He left quickly.

As he stepped outside the temple courtyard, with a bundle of clothes wrapped up with a week's worth of food under his arm, he let out a long sigh. Sai, who had followed him in silence, asked, "What now, Hikaru?"

Hikaru slid one foot forward against the dusty road. He touched the sword at his hip. "Isn't it obvious? I'm going to find the White Chrysanthemum."


	3. "Souls are like armed battalions."

Traveling, Hikaru discovered, was a lot less exciting than one would expect for a young man who had never ventured more than a league beyond temple grounds. He walked along the river, which lay smooth and placid to the left as it curved around and away from the distant mountains where it began. Follow the river long enough, he reasoned, and sooner or later they would reach the capital, close to where the river became the sea.

"And the capital," Hikaru said triumphantly, "is where we'll find news of the White Chrysanthemum."

"In my day, the Masters of the Guild took refuge in remote mountains where they could meditate and practice the sword in peace," said Sai, glancing wistfully at the far-off peaks behind them.

"But back then, the Guild was _everywhere_. Now it's just a story. If it's still around, then it must be at the capital," Hikaru argued, and added confidently, " _Everything_ is at the capital, you know."

For several days, Hikaru walked on steadily, pausing only to eat under the shade of the occasional tree and to practice his forms under Sai's tutelage. His body had grown sufficiently accustomed to the movements so that he now insisted on practicing without Sai's interference as much as possible.

"I understand," he said impatiently whenever Sai asked if he could "borrow" Hikaru's body to demonstrate. "Let me try it on my own. I can do it without your help."

"But Hikaru--"

"I know my body learns a lot more quickly when you possess it, but my mind doesn't at all. I'm going to do this by myself," Hikaru said with a stubborn set to his chin.

Sai pouted and watched mournfully as Hikaru attempted a sequence of three strikes against a hastily assembled straw dummy. "You're waving around a sword, not responding to your opponent. Remember, the sword is about balance; it is a dialogue between two people."

"How can you have a conversation with a _demon_?"

"But in a sense, that is the meaning behind the act of sealing. In the moment when you draw the demon unwittingly into your rhythm of attack, you connect it back to the natural order, the universal balance."

Hikaru huffed. "That makes no sense, Sai."

Sai smiled. "Then just remember this: a battle can be won before you even move your sword, if you know the difference between wanting to win and knowing you'll win. Demons don't comprehend that."

"Huh. You mean, when you fight, you're trying to 'tell' the demon that it's going to lose, and if it understands you, you've won?"

Sai looked astonished, but smiled more brightly than ever, as he replied, "I think you're learning, Hikaru! Why don't you try that last drill again?"

***

At the nearest town, Hikaru headed straight for the river docks, where sleepy-looking barges bobbed up and down lazily in the water and fast little sloops strained impatiently against their ropes with the lightest breeze. He halted and gazed in awe at the vast red sails, billowing like giant fans, casting shadows on the docks.

"Hey, watch it, kid," said a voice, as a hand clamped down on his shoulder and roughly shoved him to the side. "People have better things to do than stand around and gape at the boats, you know."

"Oi, who're you calling--" Hikaru closed his mouth and gulped as he took a closer look at the person who had pushed him. An older boy with sloppy hair and a narrow-eyed smirk that drawled, "Don't mess with me," to everyone who didn't move out of his way. Hikaru stepped back hastily. "Uh, sorry. Very sorry."

The boy nodded and shifted the pack he held under one arm. "Whatever. Stay out of the way, kid, the docks are a busy place. Say, you're looking for a ride, aren't you?"

"How'd you know?" asked Hikaru, somewhat defensively.

"I know 'cause the color of your robes marks you for a temple brat. I imagine that's why no one's tried to rob you yet. They all know you don't have anything worth stealing. Except that sword." The boy looked at him with a speculative grin.

Hikaru gripped the sword-hilt almost unconsciously. "No one can take this sword from me," he said quietly.

"Oh, big words from a small kid, eh? Take my advice, go run along back home to your--I don't know, prayer beads. The world isn't a nice place, you know."

"I can't go back. I've left for good."

"The more fool you." The boy gave a grunt as he made ready to move on.

"Wait!" The boy turned and gave him an annoyed look. Hikaru bit his lip, then forced himself to ask, "Uh, do you know I can get to the capital?"

"Take a boat," the boy retorted immediately, but relented at Hikaru's crestfallen expression. "Okay, the barge I'm on is headed for the capital, and if you have enough money, you can probably hitch a ride. Got anything you can pay with?"

"No, nothing."

"What about that sword?"

"Not for sale," Hikaru said abruptly, his hand reaching for the hilt again.

"Can't help you then." The boy walked off whistling.

Hikaru looked around the docks again, feeling more helpless than ever. _Sai, what could I possibly sell? My spare set of robes?_

"I don't know. Surely a kind captain could allow you a free ride?"

"Nothing's free," Hikaru grumbled.

"That's all too true," said a familiar voice, and Hikaru turned to find the boy from before grinning down at him.

"Much help you are," he muttered.

"Look, kid, I feel sorry for you, so I'll let you sneak onto my ship if you can do one thing."

"What?"

"Beat me in a fight with that sword of yours."

"Eh?!"

***

A small crowd of town boys had gathered to watch the fight. Hikaru and his opponent bowed to each other and unsheathed their swords. Hikaru muttered under his breath, "Sai?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think? Is he good?"

"He's had some training. Be careful."

The other boy was holding a sword too, although it was newer and longer than Hikaru's. They circled warily around each other, with the tips of their blades turned away and hidden behind their back.

"Sai? I've just realized something."

"Concentrate, Hikaru."

"But I've never fought against a real opponent before!"

At that moment, the boy attacked, lifting his sword around to aim for Hikaru's wrist. Hikaru instinctively stepped back, brought his own sword up and swung it in an arc that aimed for the side of the head. The boy dove out of the way, before the sword could slice through his skull, but as he straightened, Hikaru noticed the shallow cut at his temple.

"First blood to you, kid," the boy said gruffly.

Hikaru began to breathe again. He pointed his sword at the boy's throat. "Come on."

With a loud shout, the boy attacked, but Hikaru was faster--in the blink of an eye, he had the flat of his blade crack against the top of his opponent's head. The boy gave a stifled groan, but as Hikaru lowered his sword in hesitation, he slid his sword up and around and pressed the blade to Hikaru's stomach.

"Lucky this thing isn't sharp. Unlike yours."

Hikaru could feel the edge of the sword against his ribs with every exhalation. He tried not to panic. "I suppose you've won then."

"No, you went for the killing strike. If you hadn't turned the blade like that, I would have died first. Your mistake was in underestimating me _and_ your sword."

Hikaru focused on keeping his breaths as short and shallow as possible. "Er, yes," he said in a strangled whisper.

The boy finally lowered his sword and resheathed it. Hikaru sighed in relief.

"The name's Kaga. Nice to meet you."

"Shindou Hikaru. Nice to meet you too."

"Well, Shindou, you all ready to go to the capital? The barge heads out in ten minutes."

***

It took them nearly a month to reach the capital, what with the barge visiting almost every town and city along the way. The captain, after some persuasion, allowed Hikaru to stay in return for hauling cargo to and fro whenever they stopped to trade. The long days between towns, as the barge slowly inched along the river, were spent sparring with Kaga--although with wooden sticks instead of real swords--and talking to Tsutsui, another older boy around Kaga's age who worked on the ship.

Where Kaga was all brash confidence and exaggerated swagger, Tsutsui was self-deprecating politeness. Wholly unremarkable except for his remarkable memory for stories. Hikaru pestered him constantly with questions about the capital and, more cautiously, the Guild of the White Chrysanthemum.

"The White Chrysanthemum? Yes, one could say that they still exist, although nothing at all like the legend. I imagine they just adopted the name. They have their school in the capital, where they train diviners and dowsers for Imperial service. Hardly like the sorcerors and warriors from long ago."

"Oh," Hikaru said with some disappointment. "The school is in the capital, you say?"

"Yes, in a dilapidated old building, not far from the new market."

Later, when he was alone, Hikaru asked Sai, "Did the Guild have a school in your day?"

"Not a school, no, although Masters would take several pupils at a time. But in Torajirou's day, there was indeed a school, not far from where your temple is now. That is how he found me, when he picked up this sword from a room he wasn't supposed to enter."

"Hm. Well, it's a start at least," Hikaru said with a sigh.

***

When the barge at last pulled in at one of the city docks, Hikaru was the first person off the boat, his mouth fallen open in astonishment at the sight of the endless rows of buildings, built in a cacophony of styles, and the crowds and crowds of people who swarmed like busy ants along the narrow streets. He saw street vendors offering fresh fish and vegetables laid out in boxes on the pavement, beggars lying prostrate against the walls with thin hands holding out dull brass bowls, elaborate sedan chairs shielded with red curtains being carried on the shoulders of bareheaded men, rickety carts holding precarious piles of sealed urns and jars, musicians fiddling or plucking at many-stringed instruments, important-looking officials dressed in scarlet robes pushing past peasants and merchants and ordinary townspeople: in a glance, a sprawling, moving city, too busy to know any rest.

"Welcome to the capital," Kaga drawled as he slung a friendly arm about Hikaru's shoulders. He pointed at an elaborate pagoda that towered over the rest of the city. "There's the palace, where the Emperor sits, smoking his long pipe and playing his games of chess."

"The palace," Hikaru echoed dutifully, but he only gave it a scant glance before turning away to scan the buildings. Tsutsui had mentioned the "new market"; where would that be?

"Kaga, do you know how to get to the new market?"

The older boy gave him a sharp look. "Is this about the White Chrysanthemum you keep asking Tsutsui about?"

"Er, yes?"

Kaga frowned. "Look, kid, I don't know why you're so obsessed with the Chrysanthemum, but I can tell you it's not what you're looking for."

Hikaru narrowed his eyes. "I'll be the judge of that myself."

Kaga looked at him for a long moment. Hikaru fidgeted under the scrutiny, but met the other boy's eyes. "Okay. Go along this road until you see the old gate. Make a right, past the gate, and walk until you come into an open square. You'll recognize it by the smell. The school's at the opposite end of the square, between a merchant house and an inn."

Hikaru relaxed and grinned. "Thanks, Kaga."

"Good luck, kid. You dreamers need all the luck you can get."

***

The school of the Guild of the White Chrysanthemum was indeed a dilapidated old building, marked by a sign in peeling white paint above a door that did not lock properly. Hikaru watched it creak as it swung slowly back and forth, and nervously touched the sword at his side. "Does this place look right to you, Sai?"

Sai frowned, his expression rather aghast at the state of the building. "The characters are correct, but surely--I would never have believed that--"

Hikaru straightened his shoulders. "Well, the door is hanging open. Let's go in."

They crossed an empty, unswept courtyard. The sliding doors were all closed and the steps were bare. Hikaru walked up to what seemed like the central room and took off his sandals. He opened the door.

There was no one inside.

"What's going on?" he cried out in exasperation.

Sai shook his head. "I don't know either. I've never seen this place before."

Hikaru slid open another screen and stepped out into a dim hallway. He followed it to its end, where there was a wooden door that swung open with a push. Behind it, a small symmetric garden, marked with curiously shaped stones in each of the four corners. At the center, Hikaru immediately noticed, there blossomed a chrysanthemum tree. He stepped into the garden. "Sai, look--"

"Hikaru, behind you!"

He turned around with a jerk and found the tip of a sword resting not more than a hand's width from his chin.

"Who are you?"

He looked up at the voice. It belonged to a boy about his own age, who held the sword with a steady hand. He was dressed in heavy silk robes and had chin-length hair. His eyes held a curiously familiar expression. Hikaru blinked and wondered if he had seen him before.

"I will repeat myself. Who are you?"

"Shindou. Shindou Hikaru."

There was a sudden gleam in the boy's eyes. "You have a sword. Do you know how to use it?"

Hikaru gave a curt nod. The boy stepped back. "Draw it please. Do me the honor of fighting me."

Hikaru blinked at the words. Where had he heard them before? He looked at the boy again and suddenly realized why he recognized the expression.

He bowed. He drew his sword.

Without a warning, the boy attacked, his blade moving toward the throat only to lift up at the last moment to strike the head. With perfect control, the sword stopped short before it touched him, but Hikaru could still hear the sharp whistle of the steel against air, could almost feel the pressure of the blade against his hair. He had barely moved. Now he could not move at all.

The boy sighed and drew back. "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."

"Wait," Hikaru blurted out, his voice strangely harsh. "Wait."

The boy stared at him in surprise.

"One more chance." Hikaru tapped the tip of his sword against the other's.

"Very well."

Once again, the attack came without warning, but Hikaru was prepared. He sidestepped the strike and aimed for the wrist--but his opponent had anticipated it and had stepped in closer. Hikaru too closed in, until they were only a fist's width apart, the guards of their swords locked against each other, their blades dangerously close to each other's face. He looked at the boy, willing himself not to falter at the intensity, the pressure which demanded that he step back, give way, yield footing. The sense of humiliation burned in him; he could not lose, not to _him_ of all people--

Before he knew it, he had been pushed away, his sword swiftly dislodged from his grip. He stared at his hands in disbelief.

There was applause from the other side of the garden. A man approached them with a satisfied smile. "I've never seen a novice do so well against Akira before. You have potential."

Hikaru could not reply. He bent over to pick up his fallen sword.

"You carry a sword with the mark of the White Chrysanthemum," Akira said, his voice low and serious.

The man looked amused. "Shindou, was it?" he asked.

Hikaru nodded. His throat was too tight to speak.

"I'll have to remember that name."

"So will I," said Akira.


	4. "Wait for me whenever darkness falls."

The room was unfurnished, except for two cushions, a _go_ board, and a wall scroll inscribed with the words, 自知者明. The sliding screens were opened to reveal a view of the sea encircling the city. Hikaru could smell the salt and moisture in the air. He coughed and said nervously, "I didn't know that the ocean was so close."

The man who had watched his duel with the boy--that is, with Akira--slid the doors closed with a sharp snap. "The school is on a hill."

"Oh, I see."

The man sat down on one of the cushions and motioned for Hikaru to do the same. They studied each other warily across the _go_ board. Finally, the man took out a stone and placed it on the board with a precise rap. Hikaru started at the sound.

"Do you play?" asked the man.

Hikaru shook his head.

"A pity. I find that it provides some insight into the art of the sword." The man stared at the single stone on the board, his expression pensive. "In _go_ too, there is need for balance."

Hikaru shifted on his knees. _Sai?_

"What is it, Hikaru?"

 _Who is this man?_

"I don't know, but he has the bearing of a skilled swordsmaster."

The man abruptly asked, "So Shindou. What is your business with the Guild?"

Hikaru blinked. "Excuse me?"

"It has been years since a person walked into this school voluntarily. What is it that you want?"

"I--well, I don't really know," Hikaru said, taken aback. He felt a little panicked. How was he supposed to explain it all, the inexplicable desire that had driven him here? Sai, the sword, the demons, Akira--he didn't know where to begin.

The man smirked. "Well, you have some small talent for the sword. Who taught you?"

Hikaru gaped, then stammered, "Uh--well, no one, really."

"What?" the man exclaimed incredulously. "No one? You must have had a teacher."

Hikaru imagined telling the truth, that he, in fact, had been taught by a ghost, and inwardly shuddered at the thought. "I, uh, watched an old swordsmaster practice his forms and imitated him."

"On your own?"

Hikaru nodded desperately. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sai suppressing a smile and mentally cursed the ghost.

The man shook his head slowly. "I suspect you're not telling me the whole truth. But no matter. Do you wish to join the Guild?"

Hikaru's eyes widened. "Me? The Guild?"

"Well, of course. Why else would you come here? Although that in itself is unusual."

Hikaru could hear his heart beat loudly in his chest. His hands felt clammy, and he was sure his stomach had twisted itself into some sort of impossible knot. "Yes," he said quickly, his words tripping over one another, "yes, I want to join the Guild. Please."

***

Despite the old, crumbling appearance of the school, the buildings were not in fact empty or abandoned, only occupied in a haphazard fashion. The man--his name was Ogata, one of the youngest Masters in the Guild, Hikaru had learned--led him through a senseless path through the labyrinth of rooms until they arrived at a long hall occupied by several young men and women, not much older than Hikaru. He walked up to a man who was lecturing them from the front of the room and leaned down to whisper in his ear. The man gave Ogata a sharp look, but nodded, and after speaking to the students, came over to where Hikaru was standing awkwardly. Ogata left, unobtrusively, by another door.

"Shindou Hikaru, I presume," the man said stiffly. "My name is Master Shinoda. I am in charge of training the novitiates. I hear from Master Ogata that you wish to join the Guild."

"Yes, Master Shinoda," Hikaru answered with a deep bow.

"How much do you know about the Guild, Shindou?"

Hikaru bit his lip. "Not much, Master. I know--I've seen what the White Chrysanthemum does, but I didn't even know that a school existed until a few weeks ago."

"Hm. I see. Well, you must understand that this school only trains candidates for apprenticeship. Every year, we hold an examination to select the novitiate that will be accepted into the Guild. You may take the examination up to three times. If you do not pass on your third attempt, you must leave the school."

"What if I pass?" asked Hikaru boldly.

"If you pass, you will be accepted for apprenticeship under a Master of the Guild." Shinoda smiled faintly. "You seem confident."

Hikaru ducked his head and looked at his feet. "No, Master."

"Confidence can be both a flaw and an asset," Shinoda murmured as he returned to the front of the room. Hikaru followed him meekly. "Your fellow novitiates, Shindou."

Hikaru bowed again. The students did not move, but only assessed him quietly with inscrutable expressions. There were four young men, of various ages--two seemed as young as or perhaps even younger than Hikaru--and a young woman, all dressed identically in plain dark gray robes. Hikaru felt out-of-place in his yellow temple garb and shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Sit, Shindou." Shinoda gestured to an empty seat. "Now, once more, let us recite the five steps to emptying the heart."

***

In the mornings, they listened to Shinoda's lectures on swordsmanship. In the afternoons, they practiced forms in the courtyard, under the careful eye of Shinoda's apprentice. In the evenings, they sparred with one another, using wooden practice swords, in one of the gardens. Hikaru became accustomed to the illogical roundabout paths he had to take to reach any place in the complex; they too reinforced the gentle rhythm of life in the school. "They built it like a maze, didn't they, Sai?" he asked once. "Did they do it on purpose?"

Sai rested a chin in one hand. "Perhaps. As you memorize the paths you take to reach different parts of the school, you stop attempting to make sense of it and simply follow the direction your feet are used to."

"I suppose it also keeps out strangers like me. I guess I was lucky."

Sai looked at him affectionately. "I think there is more than simple luck to the road you follow, Hikaru."

Studying the sword under the Guild was very different from learning it from Sai. Sai had spent two years teaching Hikaru the reflexes and instincts of the swordsmaster in the most direct method possible, that is, by possessing his body. Although Hikaru had insisted on practicing without Sai's intervention as well, he had little experience sparring with an actual opponent, other than a few duels with Kaga during his time on the barge. Waya, a fellow novitiate, commented, "The strange thing about you, Hikaru, is that you have this very classic, almost old-fashioned form, but you almost never know how to respond to your opponent. Each strike is executed perfectly, but you don't notice what your opponent is doing."

"He's right," Sai told him later. "Timing is everything."

"I thought balance was everything," Hikaru quipped, but he put more energy into sparring at nights, dueling as often as he could with the other students. He came to realize that there were different styles of swordsmanship, different strengths and different weaknesses. Waya, for example, liked to play mental games, feinting and tricking his opponents into attacking before they were ready. Isumi, the eldest of the novitiates, held his sword like a calligrapher wielding a brush--his every movement spoke of artistry--but he lacked confidence and faltered at the crucial moment. Nase, the only girl among the candidates, was flexible and athletic; dueling with her usually left Hikaru short of breath. Ochi, a short, stocky boy, did not attack often, but his strikes landed like a hammer. Fukui, who was a year younger than Hikaru, forced his opponent into a flurry of clashes and exchanges before making an all-or-nothing attack. Hikaru realized that he had unconsciously inherited Sai's own characteristic style, without much say in the matter. He began to experiment, improvising wildly on the familiar forms to attempt new patterns of attack.

Sai had spoken of the Guild's purpose in vague, almost mystical aphorisms, but Shinoda put them to memorizing the cycle of elements, the sources of imbalance, the ways in which disruptions in _ki_ could be detected, the three lethal strikes that could seal a demon. Hikaru had trouble remembering them all and got up early in the mornings to practice reciting the five proverbs of the Meijin, who presided over the Guild.

"Hikaru?"

"Hm?"

"Are you--" Sai hesitated.

"What is it, Sai?"

"You promised I could have use of your body. Only--"

Hikaru looked up. "Sai. If anyone saw me practicing while you were controlling my body, they would immediately know something was different."

"Yes, I know." Sai gave a longing look to the sword lying by Hikaru's pallet. He sighed.

Hikaru echoed the sigh and stared at the ceiling for a long moment. "Look," he muttered, "as soon as I get a chance, I'll let you take over."

"Hikaru!" Sai's despondent expression changed into a wide, ecstatic smile.

Hikaru rolled his eyes at the ghost. "Well, you still need to find the demon that slayed the Fourteenth Emperor, right?"

Sai's face grew serious, his eyes half-closing in contemplation. "Yes. The imbalance is still present."

"Even after all those years?"

"Why do you think the Guild is in this state? Hiding behind a broken-down building in the capital, with so few Masters that out of just six candidates for apprenticeship, it can only accept one."

Hikaru shook his head slowly. "One thousand years."

Sai repeated, "One thousand years." He sighed and tried to smile. "But don't worry, Hikaru. Balance will be restored."

***

The examination for apprenticeship was held on the day before the new year. Hikaru, dressed in his thin robes, shivered as he waited with the other candidates in the courtyard. He could see rows of small icicles hanging from all the roofs. He jumped from foot to foot and tucked his hands under his arms.

"Cold?" Waya asked.

Hikaru gave him a severe look. "Of course. Aren't you?"

"I'm from the north. This weather is normal for me." Waya grinned.

Hikaru scowled. "Lucky you."

"Did you hear? You'll be facing Fukui in the first duel."

"Yes. What about you?"

"Nase." Waya sighed loudly. "I took the examination last year, you know."

"You did? How was it?"

"I lost my first duel. To Touya Akira."

"Akira?" Hikaru asked, startled.

"Yes, Touya. He's the Meijin's only son. Personally trained ever since he could walk. He didn't study in the school as a novitiate, but he entered the examination and defeated everyone without a blink." Waya frowned. "I really hate that sort of person. Thinks he can walk all over us."

"Oh." Hikaru looked thoughtful.

"They call him the Young Dragon, you know," Waya added with a snort.

At that moment, the Masters all stood to attention. The Meijin had arrived.

***

The first duel with Fukui ended before he even knew it began. Fukui had attempted to push him out of center with a series of quick, lightning-style feints to the wrist and to the head, but Hikaru caught the rhythm of his attacks, and he swung up and _down_ , with a flick of his right arm--before Fukui knew it, the wooden sword had slammed with a dull _thwack_ into his right side. If Hikaru had been wielding an actual sword, his opponent would have been sliced in half. Fukui's face turned white, and he promptly bent over and threw up on the ground. Hikaru stared helplessly as Shinoda led the boy away.

 _Sai--I didn't mean to--_

Sai placed a phantom hand on his shoulder. "You did not hesitate."

 _I didn't even think, I forgot it was only Fukui, I just moved._

"That was the right thing to do, Hikaru. When you face a real opponent, he will have no mercy either."

Hikaru took a deep breath. He had passed the first round.

He faced Isumi next. Isumi had already taken the examination twice. This year would be his last chance to enter the Guild. There was a strange sort of calmness on his face as he faced Hikaru, as if he had nothing to lose. Hikaru swallowed and raised his sword above his head. Isumi too held his sword up, ready to attack. They circled around each other slowly, waiting for an opportunity to attack. Hikaru's hand shook, just a little.

"Hikaru!" Sai shouted, alarmed. At that instant, Isumi struck.

Hikaru did not know what exactly happened next, but he swung his sword down and around instinctively. He heard the clatter of wood on stone, and he saw the tip of his sword pressed to Isumi's throat. Isumi's hands were empty.

They backed away and bowed. Isumi turned away immediately and lifted one hand to his face. Hikaru stared at his hands and clenched them into fists. _Sai. Did you--you didn't interfere, did you?_

Sai looked at him reproachfully. "How could you ask such a thing?"

 _But I--how did I do that? I couldn't do that before, could I?_

Sai stayed silent for a long moment.

 _Sai--_

"You are learning what it means to face an enemy, not only an opponent. The instinct to kill."

Hikaru gripped his sword tightly, feeling the rough wood press into his palms. _I didn't know it was like this. I didn't expect this._

"Hikaru. Your next opponent."

Hikaru looked up. Waya stood before him, a grim expression on his face. There was a small murmur of quiet commotion among the watching Masters. They both turned to look.

Touya Akira was standing by his father's side. He met Hikaru's eyes. _Show me,_ he seemed to say silently through the space between them, _what you have learned._


	5. "Gilgamesh"

Hikaru and Waya held their swords at their sides, waiting for the signal to begin. Their bodies seemed to shake with tension, and they avoided each other's gaze. The Masters, seated in an elevated pavilion at one end of the courtyard, observed them with impassive faces.

"Both candidates defeated Isumi, so this will be the final duel," Ogata murmured, as he leaned forward for a closer look. "Who do you think will win, Meijin?"

The Meijin did not answer, but old Kuwabara laughed in his hoarse, sputtering voice and challenged, "Shall we place a bet? What are the stakes?"

Ogata crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the other Master. "The new sword with which His Highness gifted you last month for your long service at court, Lord Kuwabara. Against a cask of plum wine delivered to me last week from my estates."

"A heavy price you're setting, Ogata," Kuwabara commented, but his eyes gleamed. "But I'll take that bet. The boy on the right is sure to win."

Ogata held back a frown. "The one on the right? Shindou Hikaru?"

"Is that his name?" Kuwabara gave another creaking laugh. "There's something unusual about him."

"But the other candidate, Waya, is taking the exam a second time," Ogata pointed out with a thin smile. He could not entirely hide his irritation. He hadn't expected Kuwabara to share his intuition.

"No matter. That boy will win." Kuwabara leaned an elbow on one knee, his wrinkled face contorted into a smug smile.

Shinoda struck the gong, signalling the duel to begin. For a long moment, the two opponents stood still, their faces unfocused, almost blind, as they assessed each other. Hikaru thought wildly of all that he knew about Waya--how he scrunched up his nose before reciting something from memory, his habit of holding the tip of the sword a little higher than usual, the mended patch in his robe--and told himself frantically to clear his mind, to stop thinking, to focus on the opponent before him. Not Waya, but enemy, he tried to tell himself. There could only be one winner.

 _Where is balance in a duel where one person wins and the other loses everything?_

Waya lifted his sword above his head. He took a step forward. Hikaru's mouth felt dry. They shifted a little to the side. Hikaru took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. At that moment, he saw the sword fall towards him, his mind cleared, and he sidestepped the blow. Waya had sped past him, but pivoted quickly; Hikaru was already there, waiting and ready. They attacked each other simultaneously. Their blows landed on each other's shoulders, as they moved past each other again, the momentum of their strikes carrying them to opposite sides of the courtyard. Hikaru turned and sprinted back, his wooden sword held to the side. Waya feinted with a strike to the wrist but Hikaru avoided the blow and aimed for his head; Waya tilted his head away just in time and circled to the side. Hikaru turned quickly to face him and found the sword already reaching for his head. He stepped back, then leaped forward: his sword aiming for the throat. Waya's eyes grew wide; he seemed to freeze. At the final second, Hikaru lifted his sword and brought it crashing down on Waya's head. He held nothing back, as if the entire tension and force in his body had concentrated itself in the instant of that swing. He sped past the other boy, who fell to his knees.

Hikaru lowered his sword. He was almost afraid to turn around.

He heard applause. "Well done," said Shinoda, who gently took the wooden sword from his hand.

"Waya. Is Waya all right?" His voice felt very far away.

"He's being taken care of. He will recover."

Hikaru exhaled. He felt limp and drained. He followed Shinoda to the pavilion, where the other Masters waited. He bowed, feeling rather like a puppet on strings.

The Meijin stood, his expression solid and impassive. He said quietly, in a voice as calm and unreadable as his face, "Congratulations, Shindou Hikaru. You have been accepted as an apprentice of the White Chrysanthemum."

***

"Sit, Shindou," the Meijin said. Hikaru looked about the room--again, sparsely furnished, except for two seat cushions and a _go_ board. He wondered if all the Masters had identical rooms, or if this room was the same as the one where Ogata had first brought him, those months before.

The Meijin placed a stone on the board, his fingers slow and deliberate. "Did you know, Shindou, that this board can be used for divination?"

"No, Master."

"The black and white of the stones are said to represent the _yin_ and _yang_ in the universe. What is created on this board reflects the order of the world around us. Place a stone on the board, Shindou."

Hikaru glanced at Sai in panic, but took a white stone from the board. He turned it over in his fingers. _Sai? What should I do?_

Sai held up his hands helplessly and said, "I cannot play this game for you, Hikaru."

Hikaru closed his eyes. He set the stone down blindly on the board and then opened his eyes. The Meijin remained silent, answering him with another stone. Hikaru continued setting down stones without any knowledge of what was transpiring, until there was a pattern of loosely scattered black and white on the _go_ board. The Meijin closed the bowl of black stones and said, "Interesting."

"Um, Master?"

"They say that one can read a person's fate in the stones he sets down on a _go_ board. Yours seems unusual. I must admit, I'm not certain how to interpret it."

Hikaru gave another swift nervous glance at Sai, but kept his attention on the board.

"Every apprentice is given a first task before he is assigned to a Master. I'm afraid yours will be as unusual as this pattern you have set down in stones."

"A task?"

"Yes, a task. Sometimes as simple as walking around one of the gardens or as complicated as sealing a demon. Yours will be to journey to the place where your path began."

"But that means--am I to leave?"

"And return, of course." The Meijin gave him a sharp look. "You will return."

Hikaru frowned and bit his lip. "But I don't understand. Am I supposed to find something, Master?"

"Perhaps. Your heart will know that better than I."

Hikaru gave a soft snort, but tried to hold back his frustration. _The Meijin is more obscure than you, Sai,_ he complained silently.

"Fare well on your journey, Shindou." The Meijin stood up and left the room.

Hikaru slowly got up to his feet, still bewildered. He slowly walked a long, roundabout route back to the dormitories and slid open the door to the room he shared with the other novitiates. It was empty. He picked up his sword and strapped it to his waist. He surveyed the room and was surprised to find that he had nothing to pack.

He returned to the courtyard. The gate to the school was at the other end, the door still swinging open and closed. He paused and glanced back at the worn-out, ramshackle buildings of the school. He turned and crossed the courtyard. When he had reached the door, a voice called out, "Shindou."

He looked around. Touya Akira was standing by the gate, his face half in shadow. He was dressed in the same heavy embroidered robes that he had been wearing when Hikaru had first seen him, long ago. "Yes?"

"May I see your sword?"

Hikaru frowned. "Why do you want to see it?"

"Please. May I take a look at the blade?"

Hikaru hesitated, but the curiously intent look on Akira's face persuaded him to unsheathe the sword. He held it out with both hands.

Akira took it carefully, and delicately turned it to better examine the design on the guard. His eyes narrowed. "I knew it. This design on the guard marks it as a sword of Shuusaku's. Where did you find it?"

"Shuusaku?"

"Haven't you heard of him? A Master of the Guild. He lived a few centuries ago."

 _Sai?_

The ghost had a worried, almost guilty expression. He said slowly, "Shuusaku--that was Torajirou's name, under the Guild."

Akira continued, looking pensive, "They say that Shuusaku had been brilliant, a gem that appears only once in an era. Some even wonder if he could have--well. If he could have reversed the decline of the Guild. But he did not live long enough to accomplish it."

"What? Did something happen to him?" asked Hikaru sharply.

"He died young. Very young. They say he died while battling a demon." Akira shook his head and handed the sword back to him. "Interesting that you should have his sword."

"I found it in a river," Hikaru said truthfully.

Akira gave him an incredulous glance. "Well. You're a bit of a mystery, Shindou Hikaru. You turn up at this school alone and out of nowhere, and in a matter of months, you defeat all the other candidates for apprenticeship to enter the Guild."

Hikaru shrugged, uncomfortable. "Luck, I suppose."

"No. Not luck. Master Ogata said that you had virtually no formal training before you entered, and yet you--" Akira abruptly paused and looked annoyed with himself. He shook his head. "In any case. I look forward to sparring with you when you return."

Hikaru glared at him. "I do too."

Akira bowed and left. Hikaru opened the door and walked outside.

***

"Tell me about how Torajirou died," Hikaru said to Sai one day, when they were alone on a deserted deck. They had boarded a barge, this time more smoothly, paying the fee with a few coins that Hikaru had remembered to acquire by selling his old temple robes. He gazed down at the murky waters of the river passing by below.

Sai froze, his face blank and unreadable. "What do you want to know?"

"Touya Akira said that he died young."

"Yes. Yes, he did."

"How long did you spend in his body? Five years? Ten?"

"Twelve. He found me when he was very young."

"I see." Hikaru leaned his chin on his arms. "What happened?"

"I found the demon. I had searched for it for so long--I could sense its influence, you know, in the plague that swept the capital in one year, the rebellion that broke out the next--but I could not determine its location. It moved constantly. I made Torajirou hunt it, as soon as he became a Master, for years and years, until we finally stumbled across it. I took over Torajirou's body and challenged it." Sai fell silent.

"And then? Did you fail to seal it?"

"Not only did I fail to seal it, but it destroyed Torajirou's body. At the last moment, when he knew that I had lost, Torajirou forced me out, threw away the sword and let himself be taken."

"Taken?"

"They are monsters, you know. The stuff of nightmares, the spectre of the uncontrollable. They can manifest as human bodies, but in reality, they are amorphous. They consume humans who are unlucky enough to become their victims."

"You never told me this before. You should have told me that he died."

Sai held a sleeve to his mouth. He said, in a muffled voice, "There is much that I should have told you. Do you regret the path you've chosen?"

Hikaru stared at his hands, with its calloused palms and blistered fingers. He remembered the flash of the sword as it swung through the air, the strange sense of looseness and tension as one readied for an attack. He thought of the calm certainty--both terrible and wonderful--that seized his mind when he had faced Waya in that final duel. He recalled Akira's last words, that strange focused expression turned on him. He said, "No, I guess I don't. I can't. I said I would do anything, if it meant that I could shine like _him_."

Sai did not reply. His eyes were half-closed, as if he was thinking of something very far away.

***

The barge dropped them off at a town upstream of the temple. They disembarked and followed the riverbank down to where Hikaru had found the sword. "Well," he said, upon reaching the spot. "This is where it began, isn't it? The Meijin told me to come back here. Or at least I figured he meant this place, even if he didn't know it."

Sai nodded and stared at the river. "I spent many, many years here. I watched the waters rise and recede, the tadpoles hatch and grow into frogs and die, perhaps a thousand times." He gave a little shudder. "I hate frogs, you know. Their eyes stare at you so."

Hikaru laughed. He took off his sandals and waded out into the river. He looked back at Sai and asked him, "Sai, what made you stay here?"

Sai looked puzzled. "I have unfinished business, as you well know."

"The demon who slayed the Fourteenth Emperor and killed Torajirou, yes." Hikaru gazed thoughtfully at the river surface. "You told me that humans attract imbalance. Because we want to change things to the way we think they ought to be."

"Yes," said Sai quietly.

"Do you think the demon in this river was attracted to you? The one that nearly drowned me, I mean."

Sai looked startled. "Perhaps. I never thought of that before."

"I think I can feel it. It's still lurking here, waiting for an opening." Hikaru waded a little further into the river. The water seemed to bubble.

"Hikaru--"

Hikaru looked Sai in the eye. "It's your turn."

"What?"

"Seal this demon. I promised to let you take over, right? As soon as I had a chance." Hikaru closed his eyes and drew the sword.

Sai blinked and found himself in Hikaru's body. He took a step back. The slow ripples in the water grew into waves, into turbulence. He straightened hurriedly, adjusted his grip on the sword, and then--

The river seemed to explode before him, the water rising and falling with a violent splash. Sai leaped out of the water and scrambled onto the bank. He made a complicated gesture with one hand and called out, "By sun and fire, I command you to take human form!"

 _Hikaru,_ he wailed, _give me some warning before you do that!_

 _I'm sorry,_ Hikaru said, sounding panicked inside his head, _I didn't know it would manifest so quickly!_

The water coalesced into a dripping mold of a person. It moved slickly as if gliding on the ground on waves. The edges of its fingers were edged with foam. It attacked with long whips of water emerging from its hands. Sai jumped to avoid them and swung his sword up to block a particularly sudden attack that splashed his face.

 _Sai!_

"Don't worry, Hikaru, it missed," he said as he lifted his sword above his head. The demon took a step forward, its foot landing on the ground with a faint splash. Sai closed his eyes and focused. The demon would move right, left, then a feint forward--

He leaped just in time to avoid a water whip landing near his feet, and used the momentum to move forward, pushing his sword forward, in a swift, unescapable one-hand strike. The sword sliced through the water demon's head, down to where its heart would be. Sai took a deep breath and plunged forward. The water fell into a puddle. Sai bent over, water dripping down the back of his neck. He gasped for breath. "Hikaru--"

 _Watch out, Sai!_

The puddle was boiling. Sai stared at it in shock. He grasped his sword with both hands and circled the bubbling water warily. It was moving and rising, taking the shape of a person again. As he watched it, he felt a sudden sense of inevitability. He did not need to think anymore about what to do.

The demon rose. He lifted his sword to point at its throat. It drew one hand back. He leaped forward, closed his eyes and found himself without a body. The whip struck at his phantom face--Hikaru's body pushed the sword into its throat. The water frothed, then fell once more. It soaked into the ground. There was a white chrysanthemum resting where it had once stood.

Hikaru touched his forehead, feeling disoriented. The sword felt unusually heavy in his hands. "What happened just now? Is it gone for good?"

There was no response. He looked around. He could not see the ghost. "Sai?" He sheathed his sword and called out more loudly, "Sai? Where are you?"

He walked down the riverbank. "Sai?" He waded out into the river. "Sai!"

He heard no reply, except for the faint rustle of wind against water.

***

He was standing once again before the gate to the school, the characters on the sign more faded and illegible than he remembered, the door still creaking loudly as it opened and shut with every passing breeze. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. The courtyard, dusty and unswept, like the first time he had seen it. He crossed to the center.

Behind him, the sound of a sword being unsheathed, a swift, slithering sound. He turned around. Akira stood waiting, his sword held out in one hand, the scabbard in the other. His dark hair falling against pale cheeks: a study in contrasts. Hikaru straightened.

Akira spoke first. "You're here. At last."

"Yes," Hikaru answered. "I'm back." There were tears in his eyes.


End file.
